


Business As Usual

by Schonste (Churchwarden)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-21
Updated: 2010-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-14 16:50:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Churchwarden/pseuds/Schonste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aboard the starship Defiant, Garak seeks out an old friend. Slightly related to Hero Worship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Business As Usual

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 065. banter. Takes place around the beginning of season six, when our bold & daring crew are out fighting the Dominion on the Defiant. Related to Hero Worship. You know why.

“I fucked her, you know,” Garak said casually to the only companion he had had on the ship that hadn’t watched him as if he were going to blow up the ship in the name of the Cardassian state. Julian Bashir had been looking rough these weeks – at least, as far as a perfect man could look rough. It was more in the way he carried himself, the way his eyes sat so heavily despite holding onto that boyish sparkle—

“You  _fucked_  her?” Bashir replied, wondering why he was spending his only time off with that insufferable Cardassian, drinking tea and hoping his appetite would come to him sooner than later. That insufferable tailor. Bashir was good at hiding his real thoughts and feelings, which was a good skill to have when it came to handling Garak’s oversensitive manner of handling anything. If he’d been a less capable actor, Bashir was pretty sure he would never be able to stop scowling. And yet he still enjoyed his company. Though knowing that his old jealousies had had a thick vein of underlying truth validated his feelings, at least.

“I can come up with something less crude if you wish, my dear doctor,” Garak said with a flourish of his hand. It wrapped around his cup of earl grey tea, a drink he’d grown fond of in a disgusted sort of way, on the time he’d been stuck on this ship with a crew of people that didn’t trust him. Not that he trusted them, either, but he did  _like_  most of them. Garak’s eyes rose to Bashir’s, watching for his reaction even though his mouth kept going. “It was almost like an obligation.”

“An  _obligation_?” Bashir’s expression was slightly disappointing for the tailor; he merely looked horrified. “What did you say to that poor girl? And—when was this? Was this, while we..?”

“You and I were fighting, as I recall.” Garak gave a very soothing smile to his companion, but it didn’t seem to change whatever he was thinking about. And why would it? ‘While we were fighting’ was most of the times Garak and Bashir had been together. “She thought she was in love with me! Though I can assure you, it wasn’t me she was really after, and…I knew that, as well.” He shrugged, wondering if the Human in front of him would understand the situation. The Human in front of him from five years prior would have accepted his position in a heartbeat. “The first time I took her, she called for ‘daddy.’”

“ _Garak_!” Bashir hissed, glancing around. His hand came to cover the top of the Starfleet mug as he leaned forward. “You can’t just say things like that!”

The smirk crinkling on that ridged face was positively devious, and despite their somewhat cold conversation, Bashir looked as though he were on the verge of some emotion other than ‘annoyed and disappointed’.

“I’m not kidding, doctor. Daddy. Honestly! She never said that again, mind you,” Garak continued casually, glancing at his hands with much more interest than was warranted. “But I knew what she liked. Stroking her hair. Kissing her forehead.” Bashir remained stoic. “Really, though, the reason I was obliged was the, ah, spanking.”

The mask cracked and Bashir snorted out a laugh before he could stop himself. “I can’t believe I’m listening to this!” he said, putting on an air of outrage even as a laugh curled in the back of his throat.

“She asked for it! I was  _obliged_ , doctor, she needed that father figure in her life! The steady hand of discipline if she felt she deserved it! The—”

“Garak! Shut—your mouth,” Bashir gasped, his laughter finally getting the better of him as it poured out. “Do you want the whole ship to know about that? Is she even of age? What the hell is the Cardassian age of consent anyway?” His shoulders shook, and his head was tipped down to face the table. His eyes rose to meet Garak’s as he cleared his throat, his angular smile the first genuine thing he had shown Garak in a long time – as far as Garak was concerned.

“Julian,” Garak said, his voice still far louder than strictly appropriate, “I can assure you I don’t fuck _children_.”

The pregnant pause lasted almost ten seconds before they both exploded into laughter. Minutes later, Bashir’s eyes were focused down on his fidgeting fingers, struggling to control the smile he felt filling him. “I hope you don’t intend to continue that relationship—when we get back,” he said gruffly.

Garak barely kept himself from snorting derisively. Ever the optimist, he thought, but kept it to himself. He leaned forward instead and placed a hand on Bashir’s. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he purred, squeezing that hand before letting go. “And I’m sorry to cut our witty session of banter exchange short, but I actually have a few duties to perform. Surprisingly.” His eyeridges slowly lifted as he bowed his head.

“The next time I get a free moment,” Bashir said, and he smiled a bit. “I know a place. A quiet one. We can have a ration picnic.” His smirk was flirtatious, an expression Garak hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing in a long time. “Unless you’d rather not go on a picnic with a Vulcan.”

Garak’s expression grew strangely soft at the man recalling those words, and he simply nodded. “I would be delighted to hear a Vulcan’s opinion on a piece I’ve been reading. Doctor.” Garak took his leave, then, worried that if he stayed any longer he’d do something outrageous like  _swoon_. 

Bashir watched him go with a bemused sigh. And to think, that had all started because he’d just asked his friend about the only other person he knew who was a friend to him.


End file.
